Life
by Dodger Gilmore
Summary: Formerly titled ”Things”. Brief glimpses into the lives of characters from the HP universe; events, emotions, reflections etc. Drabbles, perhaps, that together build a life.
1. Harry Potter

**A/N: **For any new reader – just read on and skip this boring A/N, okay?

Now, for all of you who read my old story **Things**, this is the new and revised version of it. **Things** was deleted by the administration because of the rule against list stories. Therefore, I will have to start over again. At first, I was heartbroken, but now I am starting to consider this an opportunity to edit and change the earlier chapters, and perhaps gain a few new readers in the process… Now, for those of you who have already read this story, there will be a lot of repetition, of course. While I have changed for example this chapter a lot, with even two completely new "drabbles", or whatever I should call them now (not "things" or anything list-like, anyway). (They're number 3 and 10, if you're interested.) And I hope you'll not give up on this story. I will get to updating with new chapters sooner than after I've posted the 47 old ones, I promise! I'll just change the order.

As I see it, you have three options. One, you read these revised chapters in their more developed format and see if you still like them. Two, you ignore the chapters you've already read but still check in from time to time or put this on alert or something to see when I post a brand new chapter. Three, you forget about it completely. I sincerely hope you won't choose option number three…

Okay, I'll stop rambling now. You do whatever you want to, of course. Now, either read this and let me know what you think, or put me on alert or ignore me or whatever you want to do (and I'll stop taking up your time with this overlong A/N).

_**Harry Potter:**_

Growing up, Harry figured that living with the Dursleys would be the most challenging experience he'd ever have to deal with. Getting to Hogwarts, he was sure he was starting a new life, with new possibilities, less difficulties. Then, he faced Voldemort. Once, twice – and again, more times than he could count. Still, he had never felt true agony, true despair and fear until he lost Sirius. His Godfather, his father's best friend. _Dead_. Vanished, behind a silly, damned veil. At that point, he knew for sure that nothing the world (or Voldemort) could ever throw at him could be worse than this emptiness, this ache of longing and of the hollowest disappointment from what could have been and now was impossible. _A family_.

Then Fred Weasley's still grinning face was staring unseeingly at him, every night. It wasn't the guilt that made this worse (if he had only gone into the Forest sooner, made it all stop…). He had felt the guilt with Sirius too. It wasn't that he had known Fred longer, that he was an even more counted upon part of his everyday world, or that, while he'd been constantly worrying about Sirius, he'd never even considered that Fred could be lost. No, it wasn't anything like that that made Fred's death a thousand more times more difficult to get over. The difference was that this death broke not only him. It broke his family too (just as he had come to realize that he actually had one).

xxx

If forced to choose a best friend of his two, Harry would choose Ron. He's not sure why. Hermione is better in many ways; tactfulness, in understanding his feelings, to comfort him and know to conjure up roses for his parents' graves. He and Ron don't talk about those things. (Not that this means that they don't still know these things about each other, even if they will be forever left unsaid.)

He's not sure why, but he knows that it's true. Fourth year without Ron was a lot more unbearable than the periods in third year without Hermione. Not even mentioning those weeks without him on the Horcrux hunt when his absence made _everything_ impossible to face.

It's not something he's proud of. But it's just always been Ron, ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express. Ron was his first friend. That means something, runs deeper than he can control.

If asked, though, he'd never admit this. He'd tell the questioner that it's impossible for him to choose between them because it's the combination that does it. (It is, really. They need Hermione too. The difference is just slight, but it is there, and it shames him.)

xxx

Since the end of the war, Harry has received the question of when he was most scared in his life countless of times. In the beginning, he used to hesitate, too many events blurring up in his brain at once, and he ended up giving each reporter different answers. After a while, though, he had time to think it through, and he settled on the Battle of Hogwarts. Since then, he has stuck to that, even if many people are surprised to hear this, claiming that he seemed so confident that night, so fearless. But that's not what he means – facing Voldemort. About that, they are right. Then, he didn't have the time to be scared, so he wasn't (even if the way his legs shook afterwards was probably a sign that he hadn't been completely unfazed). But he's not referring to that.

He's referring to the preceding battle, when everything was out of control and everyone he cared about was in the very same building – because of him - and not likely to survive, at least not all of them or even most. That was even worse than walking into the forest, knowing he'd never see them again.

This is why the only events that he considered alongside this battle were the time they fought at the Ministry (it had been his fault, for being stupid, dragging his friends into the trap, and – even if he tried desperately to quiet that voice – he knew all too well that they were only teenagers up against full-grown wizards with no mercy) and the time Ron got poisoned (this doesn't seem all that dramatic to anyone who hears it, and most people even tend to forget that it occurred in the midst of all the other incidents from those years – but for a short while, Harry was sure that he was going to lose the one person that would be most impossible, unthinkable for him to live without, and that sure deserves a place within the top three).

xxx

Some people claim that the first few weeks after the battle have turned into a blurry mess of chaotic memories that they can't get into focus – funerals blending together with other funerals. Harry wishes it was blurry for him too. But it's not. It's quite the opposite, in fact. In vivid detail, he recalls Andromeda Tonks handing him the crying Teddy because her body was shaking too badly for her to trust herself with him, Dennis Creevy looking like he'd aged ten years, Susan Bones hysterical sobbing into Hannah Abbott's chest unheard through Mrs Macmillan's piercing shrieks of "_no!_", his own vigorous lost fight against breaking down as Ginny's tear-streaked face stared stonily ahead at the coffin containing her brother…

Even if he claims the opposite, he was relieved that he was kept busy during that period, with witnessing at Death Eater trials, talking to reporters and so on. Because as what little he did see is burned into his memory, his nightmares, he's not sure he could've taken anything more. From what he's heard about the different DA members' different struggles with injuries, near-death and post-war depression – well, if he'd had the chance, he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from trying to save them too. However, if he had attempted that, he probably never would have made it through himself. And, selfishly, he counts himself lucky. Because he loves his wife and family and his more stable life now, and he would not trade it for anything, not even helping those friends.

xxx

He was the best man at Ron's and Hermione's wedding. And, just as a best man is supposed to, he made a speech about how he wasn't surprised to see them standing there, happier than ever, planning to be together forever. "Well, if any of you have seen the two of them together, you know what I'm talking about," he said, earning multiple chuckles from relatives and school mates. They had all seen it, long before at least one of the parts realized what was going on.

However, the truth is that Harry in his school years had never expected his two best friends to actually get married. He had noticed that there was something there sometime in fourth year (Ron was after all painfully obvious), and by sixth year and the whole Lavender-deal, he'd been starting to suspect that they would get together at one point or another. But he'd never thought it would last. (After listening to their bickering year after year – how could he?)

As it turns out, he was wrong. They work, through the bickering and rows. Even if he could never stand that, after the Dursleys, and is perfectly content with his more peaceful co-existence with his wife, he sees that they couldn't have had it any other way.

But, even though he will never admit this, and even lied about it on their wedding day, he didn't fully see that until those first days, weeks, months, after Fred's death. Then, he knew, when it was obvious to anyone, even him, that Hermione was all that kept Ron afloat. Then, he knew, and he saw what most of the world had seen for years. And now, he pretends that he saw it along with them. (After all, he was their best friend, and constantly in their company. How it could have escaped him is beyond him now. No wonder Rose has labelled him "the worst love detector since Merlin's time". While he does protest, he can't help but agree with her. The time it took for him to even figure out his _own_ feelings for Ginny… well, "worst love detector since Merlin's time" might not be that exaggerated.)

xxx

At times, he now questions his and Ginny's decision to name their children after deceased heroes. But when they first started discussing baby names, Lily and James were soon agreed on, without hesitation. And when Ginny cradled their son for the first time and whispered "Hi there, James", it felt good. It felt perfect. It felt like he was honouring his parents in a wonderful way, and that he was, in a way, letting them live on.

That night, however, Hermione had a talk with him, tentatively pointing out that there was a possibility that his son would feel too much was expected of them with that name. Harry had honestly never even looked at it like that before. That was why he yelled at her, and told her to mind her own damn business. Because she made him doubt something that had felt so amazing.

That was also why he had to talk to her before he and Ginny settled on Al's name, making sure that she didn't think it was an awful idea. He's grateful that she didn't argue then. He's not entirely sure that she meant it, but she said what he wanted to hear and he needed that. Because when Albus Severus blinked open those green eyes, he just had to have that name.

Naming Lily was the easiest. To name their first girl after his mother was what they had decided from the start. And the name Luna – well, just seeing Luna, who _never_ cried, tear up when they told her was enough to know that they had done the right thing.

xxx

Most people think it was an easy decision for him to take the offered post in the Auror department, after months of helping them while being more of an honorary member. The papers saw it as just a formality that he actually got hired for real. But to him, it was an important choice. He and Ginny stayed up late that night, discussing it. He asked her if she thought he was putting her through too much by getting himself into such a dangerous position again, if she thought he shouldn't risk being an as short-lived Godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius had been to him, and if maybe it just wasn't worth it. Even if it had been his dream, even if he had no idea what else he would do, he would turn them down if she just said the word. He told her that.

In response, she looked at him seriously, considering him. Then she kissed him softly and told him steadily that this couldn't be her decision.

"But, hey, you've gotten through this much, so I guess there's no reason to believe you're not gonna stick around a while longer, is there? Danger or no danger?" She smiled, and he knew she didn't quite mean it.

He knows that she worries sometimes. But he also knows that she knows as well as he does that being an Auror was just something he had to do – and wanted to do, for that matter. And he will be forever grateful to her for understanding that.

xxx

When James left for Hogwarts the first time, he didn't cry. Ginny did, that night, and he comforted her – half-joking (but secretly trying to convince himself also) that this was a good thing, because now Lily and Al would get a chance to be heard once in a while as well.

He didn't cry when Al left either. At the station, he was too busy trying to boost his son's confidence, making sure that he actually would be fine there, away from them. The following day (and weeks, _and_ months), he didn't have time to miss him, being too busy trying to make sure Lily would have a good enough time as a temporary only child.

But, when then Lily left and they returned back home, met with a silence and emptiness that their house hadn't seen in fourteen years, it finally dawned on him. That night he cried like a baby and Ginny was the one who had to comfort him. And convince him not to send a letter to the school at once, demanding that all of their children should be sent home immediately because of the family emergency that he couldn't possibly live without them.

xxx

He and Ron had always joked that one day, one of their daughters was bound to end up marrying Draco Malfoy's son (because fate just did love to play with their nerves). When, in Rose's fifth year, Ron stumbled out of the fire, spluttering incoherently ("She – and, and _him_! I – and she – and _him_!"), looking extremely flustered but defeated at the same time, Harry just chuckled and poured him a glass of Firewhiskey. Then he, still grinning, told Ron to relax, because Al had been telling them for years that Scorpius was all right.

Secretly, though, he was overwhelmingly relieved. Because, even if he would never admit it to Ron, he knows that if it had been Lily, he would have been a lot less calm. He counts himself lucky there. Lorcan Scamander is a _lot_ easier to deal with. Compared to the son of their old enemy, a former Death Eater, the grandson of Lucius Malfoy – well, compared to that anything would be fine, really. But, even if Harry can't say he loves the idea of his daughter dating, he supposes that Lorcan, Luna's son, is in comparison the ideal son-in-law. Even if he does sometimes talk about Wrackspurts, and, even worse, is a whole year older than Lily – in comparison to what Ron has to go through, Harry really can't complain.

xxx

When Hermione suggested that they should arrange some sort of DA reunion, Harry was sceptical. Only a few months had passed after the war, less than that since Ernie's delayed passing. Lavender had just been released from St Mungo's, as had Michael Corner. Cho was still there. George had by now opened up the shop, but wasn't exactly getting out much. Basically, he pictured an evening of awkward conversation and multiple breakdowns, and he wished for nothing of the sort. However, both Ginny and Neville backed Hermione up and despite Harry's reluctance, it happened.

The first time, his expectations were fulfilled. Lavender stayed clutched to Seamus's arm the whole night, keeping her gaze at the floor, hardly speaking to anyone else. Susan didn't show, and Hannah kept checking her watch the whole night, Neville's hand soothingly squeezing hers every few seconds. George stood in a corner with Lee, Angelina and Alicia, switching between looking like he wished he was anywhere else in the world and looking defiantly challenging at everyone who dared look his way with anything resembling pity.

No, the first time wasn't a success. But, still, somehow, these reunions ended up continuing every couple of months, and with time, they became less painful. Eventually, they learned to laugh together. Now, many years later, Harry is grateful to all of them that they kept on going, even through the pain. The relaxed and joyful feats they arrange today are something so completely different from those first times, and he wouldn't want to have missed that for anything.


	2. Ron Weasley

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the response on the previous chapter. I really appreciate that so many of you are taking the time to review these chapters again.

As the last chapter, this has been very edited and developed and well, changed. Number 2, 6 and 7 are completely new. Number 4 and 5 are very much lengthened and developed. I've made some changes to the others too, but they are more minor. Anyway, have a good read!

_**Ron Weasley:**_

In retrospect, he has realized that he's been in love with Hermione forever. Probably even in first year, when he was overwhelmed by guilt at hearing about her crying in the bathroom because of something he had said. But, without doubt, he has been feeling something more than friendship for her since fourth year. Even if he was completely clueless then, he's definitely sure about that now. You just don't get that jealous if you don't feel something. (He's actually a little amazed that he didn't connect the dots at the time. Sometimes he really wonders how he did manage to justify his fierce hatred for Krum to himself.)

But, as Hermione so often informs him, boys are slow and he was living proof of that. He didn't even consider the possibility until two years later, when she invited him to Slughorn's party and, for a moment, he saw the image of the two of them, going to a party as dates…

Then everything came crumbling down. She had snogged _Krum._ What had he been thinking, fooling himself that she could want him? So, when Lavender paid him attention, giggling at him, showing so clearly that she would want to snog him and not Krum, he told himself it was the right thing to do. To move on. To prove to her that he wasn't a pathetic loser. If she could snog people, so could he!

It wasn't the best plan in the history of the world. In fact, one might call it the lousiest one ever. Not only did he lose the chance of something more happening between them, but he also lost Hermione's friendship. But, then, he was way too proud to ask for it back, or even to break it off with Lavender. So he stayed with her, even as she became more and more annoyingly clingy, his hope that she would dump him growing stronger by the minute.

The night when she finally did, and he watched the radiating, meaningful smile Hermione sent his way before she went to bed, he at last admitted to himself that what he was feeling was a lot more than a little crush.

xxx

Harry is his best friend. He always has been and he always will be. (Why Hermione was never his friend in the same way has, in later years, become fairly obvious…) And Ron never regretted this. Not in the beginning, when Harry was so clearly unused to the customs of friendship and family, and it freaked Ron out big time on every occasion he was reminded of just how damaged his new friend was. But they got through that, and it was soon made obvious that Harry was a pretty fast learner.

Then, more stuff happened, and the times when Ron wasn't sure what to say increased as Harry faced more and more horrible obstacles. Well, they did face them together, but not really. Harry faced Voldemort and Riddle and Dementors and dragons and Voldemort again. And he watched Cedric die. Of course, this bothered Ron too – who wouldn't be bothered if a school mate was suddenly brutally murdered? But he could see that it was a lot worse for Harry, who had been there, and who Ron just knew was putting the blame on himself.

The following year was awful. While Ron had never quite known how to deal with Harry's potential emotions before, he sure as hell had no effing idea how to respond to this sudden anger that was not only directed at the world in general, but at him and Hermione too, even when they so clearly did nothing to deserve it. Had Hermione not been there then, explaining to him that Harry didn't have anyone else to shout at, that he had to use them, Ron knows he would have made things a lot worse, and – while he hates himself for it – he probably would not have been able to stand by his friend when it seemed he didn't even want him to stick around. But, thankfully, Hermione was there, and then, so was Ron. Even when it was bloody unfair and impossible. Because it was Harry, and he needed them. He didn't have anyone else.

xxx

If Ron had been asked who his favourite sibling was when he was a teenager, he would have said that it was Bill. Because Bill had always been too old to pick on him. He had simply been there to offer help or advice, being almost more like an extra parent at times. Bill was the only one he counted on to not ask too many questions or resent him when he had done the worst thing possible. He could still come to Bill. But that didn't make him Ron's true favourite.

Even though he'd never have admitted it to anyone, Fred and George were it. Because, while they might not show it a lot, they were always there when he really needed them. And, unlike Bill, they were _always_ there and not off to bloody Egypt most of the time. Despite their teasing that really brought him down at times, he had always looked up to them the most. Even more than Bill, even.

Any death would have hurt him, of course, but Fred's broke him just a tad worse. Because he had never even imagined the two of them as mortal. In his mind, they were indestructible. They were Fred and George for Merlin's sake! (Sure, there had been a close call with George's ear, and that had woken them all up very unpleasantly, but still… even then, he'd made it. They _were_ still indestructible.)

Even less could he have imagined the new George that emerged after the loss of his twin. The new, gloomy, angry, hopeless, _crying_, George, who didn't seem to even begin to mend until two years later and who, after many years, is still not the same.

That he, in a way, lost both the two persons he had looked up to most, made it all the more awful (as if losing _one_ family member, any family member, wouldn't have been enough).

xxx

He never believed that Harry could die, or that any of them could for that matter. He did know the risks, of course, he wasn't stupid or that naïve. He knew, always, that it was a matter of luck and chance. Particularly during those unbearable, self-loathing weeks at Bill's house, he was painfully aware of the dangers the other two were being put through, while he was lying safely in a warm bed with a filled stomach. Still, somehow, even while his nightmares were haunted with cold, green eyes telling him that it was all his fault, and begging brown ones screaming for his help, he hated that he could not get back to them and go through this with them. He didn't let himself think that they might not be suffering anymore.

It was the same when he did get back to them. He pushed those thoughts away, firmly. Because if he let himself speculate – well, he wouldn't have been able to do it. Any of it. And he didn't have a choice. (Even though, technically, he _had_ a choice, as he had proved to them all. But he was determined to show both himself and the others that he did _not_ have that choice anymore. That this was the only place he could be – with them)

Even listening to the screams that tore him apart, piece by piece, his body shaking, trembling and shouting in panic, because he knew it was way too close – even then, he kept telling himself that there had to be a way. If he could just think properly, he'd find a way to get to her, to save her. Because it wasn't too late.

Not even when he saw what was so clearly his best friend sprawled out in Hagrid's sobbing arms did he take it in. He had to believe that it was all some kind of a trick, a Polyjuiced Harry or something. Because it just _couldn't_ be true, not now, not after they'd been through all this and still made it. It just couldn't be. So he didn't believe it. But, even while he refused to believe it, he did have some serious trouble gulping for breath, praying desperately for Hermione's legs to keep her steady as she wavered, because he wasn't sure he would have been able to catch her.

xxx

The worst day of his life was, by no comparison, his brother's funeral. The days before had been filled with everyone's tears – even his father's, even George's, even Percy's, even Harry's, even his own. But, somehow, these days hadn't quite seemed real to him. It had all been happening so fast, from deadly fire to dead eyes to Death Eaters to dead Harry to Hermione in the common room, kissing him again – and it hadn't been a dream, kissing her in the midst of it all, either! And then there were funerals and screams and tears and reporters and the Ministry and Aurors and hearing preparations and all he can really remember is Hermione's hand in his through it all.

But that morning, it hit him for real. That this day was different. The worrying and fear, he'd almost learned to deal with that by denying it all. But this cold, undeniable reality – he had no possible idea how to handle that. And he just could not get up. He and Hermione were almost late to the actual funeral, because he just couldn't face it. It took a lot of her frantic tears and desperate questions if there was someone else she could get until she finally simply dragged him up by force, swallowing down her own sobs as she got him dressed and lead him down the stairs to his mother's anxious question if they were all ready to go.

That day was impossible. Sitting there, knowing that Fred's body was there, Fred's body that had so recently been Fred… And that, even though Ron had been right next to him, there had been nothing to do. He had done nothing. He had just stood there, watching it happen. And now he was just sitting there, his eyes closed, because he couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch Harry crying openly even though he tried hard not to, Percy and Charlie and Bill not even caring, his mother and father looking so young and helpless, and _George_… But he sat there, at least. And all the while, Hermione's arm was around him, rubbing his back, and he felt that. She was there, and they both know, that if she hadn't been, he wouldn't have been either.

xxx

Being the sixth son in the family wasn't easy on him. For many years, he felt inferior to his brothers, panicking inwardly – because how could he ever become as smart as Bill or Percy, or as brave as Charlie, or as funny as Fred and George? Even when he did, in fact, make both Prefect and the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he never quite reached the levels his brothers had before him. For a long time, this bothered him a lot. Constantly hanging around with Hermione and her top grades and Harry and his attention didn't always make matters easier either.

However, after the war, he realized that these things didn't matter. During the war, he worried – not about Quidditch teams, but about more important matters (like how Charlie or Bill or Fred or George or Ginny never would have abandoned their friends). But, after the war, after losing Fred, nothing could matter less.

This is why he could choose to work in George's shop instead of taking the offered place in the Auror's office. Had he been the person he had been before the war, he wouldn't have been able to work with any of his brothers, especially Fred or George – especially just George, taking the place Fred should have filled. Had he been the person he had been before the war, he would have instead sought the chance of glory and heroics, to prove his own worth. Now, he didn't need that anymore. Just knowing that he _could_ do it was enough. He didn't have to prove anything anymore. That didn't matter. And George needed him. That was what mattered.

xxx

When George showed up at the Burrow, hand in hand with Angelina Johnson, Ron couldn't believe his eyes. First of all – George was _dating_? And he hadn't noticed, who worked with him all the time? But, before he could process the fact that his older brother had not felt he could trust him with this highly important piece of information, an image passed through his head as he watched Angelina grinning nervously at George. Fred. Fred and Angelina, dancing dangerously fast together, laughing loudly, Fred looking – happy. They had been together, hadn't they? Fred and Angelina. How could she now be holding George's hand instead? Had she really changed her mind or – or had she simply taken the bloody second best thing now, when Fred wasn't around? Ron turned cold at the thought. She couldn't do that to George. If he was finally getting somewhere, trusting her – she couldn't let him down. He would _not_ let that happen.

So he confronted her, and not in a very smooth way at that. In return, he got a furious George, demanding that he should apologize to Angelina. He did, and that was when he first started realizing that he had made a mistake. Not only a mistake in the way he had passed on his fears, but also in the assumption itself. Because she seemed… not angry. Just hurt.

During the next couple of weeks, Angelina was slightly uncomfortable around him, and he hated that, so he tried to make up for it as much as he could (he knows that George noticed this and that he otherwise would have had to pay a lot harder for his first mistake). And now, watching the two of them together – well, it was obvious to anyone that neither of them was in it for any other reason than the simplest one there is; they needed each other.

xxx

He still can't fully grasp that Harry actually named his _child_ after _Snape_. He knows that Snape supposedly did all these wonderful things and saved Harry's life and had a thing for his mother and so on and so on. But still… Snape hated Harry. And Harry _hated_ Snape. Sure, Harry was starting to run out of names from appropriate dead guys, but still…

Ron has never said anything about this, though. He's seen that this naming thing is kind of a sensitive issue, and he has a suspicion that Hermione has something to do with it. So he keeps his ponderings to himself, but is thoroughly relieved when Albus grows up and doesn't seem to have caught on any evilness or tendency to not wash his hair properly from his namesake.

xxx

When Rose told them that of all people, she had chosen to date Scorpius Malfoy, Ron's first reaction was to head out to get that git beheaded, and then, obviously, lock his daughter up for the rest of her life (or at least a couple of decades). But before he could even open his mouth, Hermione squeezed his hand, leaned into him and whispered "look at her" so quietly that only he could make it out. And when he did, he saw his sixteen-year-old daughter blushing furiously, biting her lip hard, her eyes flickering rapidly back and forth between him, his wife and the carpet.

Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat. "Oh. Well, then. That's – um, is he… nice?" Both girls gaped at him, but he just shrugged, forced a smile and hugged his surprised daughter tightly. "He better be _very_ nice," he mumbled in her hair. She looked up, assuring him brightly that he was.

Seeing her big smile, Ron promised himself that he'd make the most effort possible to handle this well. He would not make the same mistakes he had made with Angelina and George. He knew better now, that even when he didn't understand it, the people he loved usually knew who were right for them better than he did. So, he would try to process that he could eventually be sort of in-law related to Draco Malfoy. For Rose's sake.

Then he bolted to Harry's place. Because, boy, did he need to vent after hearing _that_!

xxx

When Hugo and Lily were about 15, they had a huge fight. Having been best friends basically since birth, they'd of course bickered a lot during the years, but they had never really been angry with each other before this – not in a way that lasted more than at most an afternoon. Nobody except the two of them are still sure what this one argument was about, as the furious teenagers both refused to speak a word of it to anyone when they were home for Christmas. Even Hermione was at a loss for what to do, and when that happened, things really were bad.

After a few days and a confused conversation with a Harry, who had gotten just as scarce information out of Lily, Ron suddenly saw himself; fourteen, stubbornly refusing to forgive and believe his best friend because he had hurt his feelings. After an afternoon of careful planning, he knocked tentatively on his son's door. When Hugo grudgingly let him in, he didn't ask him anything. Instead, he started telling him about his great row with Harry when he had gotten selected as a Triwizard Champion. As he spoke, Hugo's expression slowly changed from sulking to wide-eyed in concentration. Even though he had heard a lot of stories from his parents' years at school, he had never heard that particular story (Ron didn't exactly go around boosting about it). After he had finished, Hugo didn't say anything, so Ron left him alone with his thoughts. While he never said anything, Hugo did return from Lily's place a few days later with a big grin covering his face. Even Hermione was impressed.

**A/N: **I'll get to Hermione's as soon as I get the chance, but I want to edit that one quite a bit too, so it's a bit of work and has to wait until I get the time. For now, though, just let me know what you think of this!


	3. Hermione Granger

**A/N: **This has taken forever. I owe you all a million apologies. I owe you better than this, after the wonderful response I've received – both for the first two chapters and for Things before. It's just been a lot going on lately, and I've had trouble finding trouble for fanfiction in general, and then when inspiration hit, it wasn't for re-writing this… I'm sorry. I wish I could promise quicker updates now, and I hope I will manage that, but I can't make any promises. Just know that it won't be until after I've re-written all of them until I start posting new ones. Someone new should be coming up pretty soon (in chapter order, that is, and hopefully time-wise as well…).

Anyway, this is almost completely re-written, because I wasn't too fond of the old version. Number 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7 and 8 are completely new. 9 and 10 are almost the same as before, while 5 is a developed version. Hope you'll enjoy.

_**Hermione Granger: **_

At Muggle school, she wasn't bullied, per say. Only rarely did someone tease her a bit, calling her a teacher's pet. It was more the fact that they were all divided into pairs and that she just happened to be left out. Sometimes one of them invited her to a slumber party, and sometimes she attended, but she never really felt the point of lying awake all night, giggling about the boys.

Learning that she was a witch, something fell into place. So _that_ was why she had been different. There wasn't anything wrong with her. She was different, but in a good way, and she was going to go to a school with lots of kids just like her. She was beyond excited, obviously, but at the same time horribly nervous. This was her chance, to start over, to make friends. She needed to be prepared. She needed not to make a fool out of herself, not knowing magic like the others did. She needed not to give them a reason to dislike her.

So she learned all the books by heart. She wanted to fit in, and, of course, she wanted to do well in her classes, as she always had. Plus, the books were so interesting! This whole magical world – it was fascinating!

xxx

Getting to Hogwarts didn't turn out to be the great change she had expected it to be, though. No matter how hard she had tried, she ended up getting those looks again, those looks that said she wasn't welcome. She ended up sharing a dormitory with two other girls, who loved to braid each other's hair and discuss the cuteness level of the boys, day in and day out. And, even when she tried to join in, they mostly ended up giggling for reasons she couldn't understand, and she pretty soon gave them up as a lost cause.

It wasn't just them, though. As she looked around, she found with disappointment that she was regarding the exact same conditions as she had in the Muggle world; the girls were looking at the boys, who were either looking back or simply discussing sports. Constantly. The only difference was which sport. None of them seemed to want to discuss their classes, or, frankly, seemed to be very interested in magic at all. They were mostly just complaining about homework. She couldn't comprehend it. Complaining – when they had gotten the unique chance to actually learn magic!

xxx

She wasn't all alone, though. Neville had suffered the same fate as her, that of being the odd number among all the pairs. The two of them didn't have much in common except for this fact, really, but he was a kind, nervous boy and she didn't mind spending time with him. Even if his face tended to turn a nice shade of green every time she tried to analyze their classes with him, and even if he wasn't the kind of friend she had longed for, she soon learned that she could enjoy helping him with his homework, and the two of them worked better and better together. You couldn't call them a pair, in the way Harry and Ron, Dean and Seamus or Parvati and Lavender were pairs, but they were friends.

Then that day came. When the Ron-boy who she had never done anything but try to be nice to said that it was no wonder she hadn't got any friends. And it hit her, as she searched her mind for someone to go to for comfort and realized that a crying girl was way beyond Neville's capacity, that he was right.

For a few years (before kisses and weddings and kids came into the picture), she considered that the best day of her life. Because that was the day she got friends, who would always be there for her. Friends who still didn't want to discuss homework, but who somehow complimented her, and made her part of their pair. For life, she had friends (excepting a few nightmarish weeks in the third year, where all those old insecurities and all that loneliness came back to her).

Sometimes, she felt bad for Neville. She knows that she kind of did abandon him. She didn't try to get him into their group. She talked to him, yes, she continued to help him with his school work and she was his friend. But he wasn't part of their trio, and especially since Neville is so close to them nowadays, she feels that she probably should have tried harder then. She confessed this to him once, and apologized. He shrugged, and told her it was all right, that she was always his friend and that he found his way in the end anyway. That it wasn't right then. That it was supposed to be the three of them. She still feels bad, because even if he pretends to brush it away, she knows how much those years hurt him. And even if it wasn't right, and it was supposed to be the three of them, she should have tried a lot harder, because she knows what it feels like not to fit in, and she never wanted Neville (or anyone for that matter) to share that experience.

xxx

She never did explain to anyone just why she felt so strongly about house-elves. Everyone thought she was either just overly sympathetic, too unfamiliar with the magical world to understand the concept or simply on the verge of insanity. She knew that not even Harry or Ron got it, but yet she tried hard to make them see it. Really, the injustice should be obvious to anyone, but for some reason it affected her more than the others. At first, she was puzzled. She knew it wasn't that she was more kind-hearted than everyone else – she wasn't that conceited. It was something else.

It didn't hit her until a long time later, when she had gained a bit of distance to it all. Then, one day, she knew why. It was her studying. It was the fact that she knew, more than any of the people she had tried to convince, how it felt to work and work until she felt like nothing in the world could make her feel less exhausted. She knew, so well, how it felt to then, in the midst of that exhaustion receive that perfect mark she had wanted, or simply a smile and a "well done, Miss Granger" from her teacher. How much she needed that, to make it all worth it.

This was why she could not stand to watch these creatures, struggling their whole lives to please the wizards, who never saw them, never appreciated them, never even bothered with a "thank you", "please" or "well done". She couldn't imagine how they could get the strength to continue through the exhaustion with nothing but threats of violence to keep them going.

xxx

She was in fourth year the first time she admitted to herself that her feelings for Ron might be something slightly outside the realm of friendship. It had probably already been growing for a while then, but she hadn't wanted to see it (especially not the year before, when he was constantly hurting her with being the world's most immature and unreasonable prat). Then, when she felt how much it stung to hear that he didn't even think of her as a girl, it was undeniable, since she knew she could care less if Harry saw her as a girl or as a Giant Squid.

In fifth year, she realized that she was falling for him for real, when he grew up a bit and stood by her side all year in trying to support the angry, misunderstood and highly pubertal Harry, just like she needed him to.

The following year was chaos. Just when she'd gained a bit of hope that they were possibly moving a bit forward, finally, she found him kissing Lavender Brown of all people. For a long time, she couldn't even comprehend what she had done wrong. (When he did tell her this, later that year, she still thought that he was stupid and that she did not deserve his treatment of her, but still – it was Ron, and he seemed to feel pretty stupid himself, so she couldn't not forgive him.)

The day when she reached certainty followed soon after this. At Dumbledore's funeral, looking at the crystal blue sky, out over the Hogwarts grounds, at the people around her, and then up at Ron, holding her while not even trying to hide his own tears – when she met his eyes, looking down into her, she knew. She knew that she loved him. And she knew that they would have to wait, like they had sort of silently agreed to do, until the war was over, because now Harry needed them to be his friends and nothing more. But she knew that when he one day didn't, she would still need Ron and she would still find him by her side.

xxx

Being the control freak that she is, the Horcrux hunt was the greatest trial of her life. Going around, without a plan, sometimes without any hope of getting anywhere nearer to where they needed to, yet being in constant huge danger – it was horrible. She had always been the girl who thought things through first, who needed the plans and the control. Yet, she never hesitated. She knew that her two boys needed her, and she needed to be there with them.

When _he_ left, he took away what little hope she had had left. He made the torture of this nightmare so much worse, and he already broke that faith she had gained at Dumbledore's funeral. Because he wasn't there, when they both needed him more than ever. She saw what it did to Harry, but could not for the life of her bring herself to comfort him, not really, not like she should have. It took all the strength in her to keep the small parts of a brave face she still had up for him, to not simply give up when they were still getting nowhere and the forbidden worry that she had been pressing down so firmly for so long was suddenly uncontrollable (because there was no denying now, was there, that there was hardly one chance in a million that she would ever see _him_ again, the way their world was heading?).

This should have taken her longer to get over. Maybe she should never have forgiven him, trusted him again. Perhaps that would have been the sensible, smart thing to do. But with him, she was never sensible. He was Ron and when he got back, she was angry and she hated him, but still… After a while, it was too much, and she just needed him more than she hated him. And after everything was over – well, she loved him and he needed her more than ever and she needed him too. Simple as that. Even Hermione Granger can't be sensible all the time.

xxx

The next year, she made one of the hardest decisions she ever had to make (going on the Horcrux hunt does not count, because that never was a decision). She returned to Hogwarts for one last year, without her two boys. All that summer, she hesitated, not daring to bring it up with Ron. Then, when it became clear that he would be working with George, she tried to reason herself out of going. That she couldn't possibly leave him now, when he needed her, and that she could find something else to do. That she didn't need to complete her education, and she shouldn't even be thinking of such things after all they had been through.

But in the end, all of her arguments just weren't convincing enough. She needed to go back. She needed to get her NEWTs, and more than that, she wanted that last year at her school. She wasn't ready to get a job, and she knew she would always regret it if she didn't return. Also, she trusted Ron now, and she trusted their relationship enough to know that they could survive this year with merely holidays and a few Hogsmeade meetings together. They could, and they would.

Still, telling Ron and seeing the knowing, but yet so impossibly sad smile on his face, she almost took it all back. Except that she knew, from the look in his eyes, that he knew too that this was the way it had to be and that he wouldn't let her.

That year wasn't easy, but she had Ginny and he had Harry. She needed to go to school and he needed to help his brother. They both were where they needed to be.

xxx

Then, the time had finally come for them to live their lives and to have the futures they had fought for. A few years passed, in which Hermione had a beautiful wedding day and worked her way up at the Ministry. And then, they were going to have a baby, and all of her dreams were coming true – she was about to get that last missing piece in her puzzle. And then it just didn't happen.

It was supposed to be so perfect. The night after she and Ron had discussed it, she talked to Ginny, who decided to have the same conversation with Harry. A few days later, all four of them were in on the plan – they were going to get kids, together, and become one big family (well, of course George's and Percy's and Bill's kids were their family too, but it would always be just a little bit more with Ginny and Harry).

Ginny got pregnant after what seemed like no time at all, just according to plan. At first, Hermione was excited with her, thinking it would just be a matter of days, or perhaps weeks, before it happened for her as well. And then it didn't. And Ginny's belly expanded more and more, and Harry got more and more overprotective and generally overjoyed and Ron seemed not to mind at all – but Hermione was starting to panic. Why hadn't it happened yet? Was it supposed to take this long? Was something wrong with her, or them? And why was Ron so unfazed by it – was she just being hysterical, or was he being insensitively slow?

Shortly after James was born, she broke down completely, and was forced (by Harry, who had found her and comforted her) to speak to both Ginny and Ron. After that, it was easier, because she didn't have to pretend to be happy around Ginny and James all the time, and she had Ron, who now knew to keep an eye on her and to simply be there. It helped, yes, but not enough. It still broke her heart to watch Ginny holding her baby, to watch James grow and start crawling, and know that she wanted that so much.

Seven months later, her shriek had Ron stumbling into the bathroom, wand ready, expecting at least a dozen Death Eaters. But what he found was his wife, sobbing unrestrainedly, throwing herself around his neck, squeaking incoherently for about ten minutes before he realized what was going on. (Right then, she was sure that nothing could ever make her happier. Then, two months later, Ginny got pregnant too, and the small twinge of disappointment at the lost dreams of experiencing it with her friends was gone too.)

xxx

The night James was born, she and Harry had a fight. She never meant for it to happen, but it did (he was sleep-deprived and high on emotion, while she was close to losing it already with all the joyous people crowding the newborn and his radiant mother). She thought that she was careful in her way of questioning him, not accusingly, if he really thought it was a great idea to name his kids after dead people he had loved (she already suspected that Fred, George's son, would have a hard time with that once he started realizing why everyone sometimes got teary-eyed just looking at him or hearing his name spoken aloud). He had blown up at her, told her to mind her own business. She had soaked her pillow that night, but had been careful to hide it from Ron. Both because she was slightly ashamed about her own overstepping, and because she really didn't want him to know the real reason she was so bothered (if he hadn't yet started being concerned at their lack of pregnancy, there was no reason to worry him and drag him down with her, right?).

The next day, Harry had apologized, looking sheepish, but they'd never discussed it again and his son was named as planned; James Sirius. Not until the week before the birth of Harry's next son did he bring up the subject again. Staring at the floor, he told her that he and Ginny were thinking about naming their son Albus Severus. And then he looked up and asked her what she thought. She had hugged him tightly and told him that it sounded like a great idea to honour them, even if she didn't exactly agree, simply because she wanted that worry out of his eyes, and because she knew it wasn't her place.

Yet, when it came to their own children, both she and Ron knew that they had to give their children original names, with nothing painful or saint-like to live up to. She suspected that they would have enough to deal with, just from their surnames.

xxx

When Rose told them that she was dating Scorpius Malfoy, Hermione couldn't let herself react. It just took one look at her extremely nervous daughter and she knew that right now her only priority was to make sure that Ron didn't explode. She managed this and sighed in relief when father and daughter embraced warmly, because she had seen the initial look of fury in Ron's eyes. Then she too hugged her daughter, whispering something about how they would always love her, no matter what.

Still, the first time he came over, she only saw the smirking boy who had called her a Mudblood so many times and when she gripped Ron's hand tightly, it was as much for her own sake as for his. And even if she later got to know Scorpius, who was actually both timid and kind, she couldn't help seeing his father in him, just sometimes, when a portion of his spoiled nature spilled out. She knew she was being irrational and judgemental, but it really did take until her daughter was finally engaged to Scorpius until she really admitted defeat and took him in as part of the family – not just with her behaviour, but with her heart as well.

**A/N: **Thoughts? Personally, I like this better than the original, but any opinions are welcome.


	4. Ginny Weasley

**A/N: **Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I could go on. I know I promised a faster update. I know I've failed to achieve that. In my defence, I have been writing. Just not this story. I've been busy with a new, huge project – I'm writing out Padma Patil's story, from first year through all of her school years and beyond. I'd love for you to check that out: **Hogwarts According To Padma Patil**. That story has then inspired me writing out Ginny and Michael's romance: **Falling In Love, Falling Apart**. It will also, in time, inspire some **Moments**, **Battle of Hogwarts: Postscript** _and_ **Life** chapters. In time. For now, though, here's Ginny. And, as said – if you want more info on her relationship with Michael – I have a whole story dedicated to that.

Okay, so this chapter. Every old part is slightly developed or changed, some more than others. Only 5 and 6 are brand new, but 3 and 4 have been very much lengthened.

_**Ginny Weasley:**_

Her first year at Hogwarts will always be her worst. Because then she had no one to turn to. She didn't even have control over herself. Even in her fourth year, with Umbridge, they were many who stood together in being against her, and Ginny doubted herself less than ever before.

Even in her sixth year, when everything was wrong with Hogwarts because the three most important people weren't present, and because the Carrows were torturing them and they knew that the outside world was falling apart – even then she had others. She always had Neville, she had Luna at least for a while, and she had Michael and Padma and Hannah and everyone else who was there and went through it all with her. Even if they almost never mentioned Harry or Ron around her, they knew, and that helped. No one knew about Tom. She has never again felt so lonely. Not even on Fred's funeral when she didn't touch anyone.

xxx

If someone had asked her who her favourite brother was while she was in school, she'd have answered that it'd have to be Fred and George. Because they made her laugh more than anyone else and they had always trusted her in on their secrets a bit more than any other siblings. And they were insanely overprotective, which she pretended to hate, but wouldn't have been able to live without.

Yet, saying that they were her favourites would have been a lie. The truth is that Ron will always be the brother she's closest to. Even though they drive each other crazy, he always was the one to really take the time and be with her when they were kids when the others thought she was just a baby. He was the one who brought Harry and went to the Chamber of Secrets to save her, and he was the one she'd considered telling about Tom, all year. Because she knew he'd never judge her, not when it mattered.

He was the one she missed the most when he left for Hogwarts, and not just because he was the last one, but because he was Ron, and he had always been there. He's simply always going to be the brother that she both hates and loves the most. It's not just because of her infatuation with Harry and her friendship with Hermione that she always dreamed desperately of being the fourth member of their trio. And during the year at Hogwarts without the three of them, everyone assumed she was only falling apart because Harry was gone, but that wasn't the whole truth. Ron had always been there. When he wasn't, she didn't work. It wasn't the same when Fred and George left school, or Percy. She missed them, yes, but it wasn't the same.

xxx

She was five when she decided that she was going to marry Harry Potter, the hero of her fairytales. When she was 10 and saw him at the station, she realized for the first time that he was close to her age and actually a real boy (even if he _was_ a hero). From then on she denied being in love with him when her family teased her – she preferred to label it as a healthy fascination. She started Hogwarts and hated herself a little, because she had wanted to get to know him so badly and yet she wasn't even able to form words in front of him. He didn't pay her any attention, and the worst part was that she couldn't even blame him for it – who would, to a silly little girl who turned scarlet and knocked things over whenever he was around?

In her fourth year, she and Hermione had grown closer, and she gave Ginny the advice to start loosening up around Harry, so that he'd be able to get to know the real her. She trusted Hermione, because she was her friend, _and _Harry's. So she did. She tried. She dated Michael Corner, because he was kind of cute and he looked at her and didn't see his best friend's sister. He saw a girl. She did hesitate before entering into a relationship with him, though, keeping it to harmless flirting for six months after their first banter and dancing session at the Yule Ball. Then he asked her out, and she said yes. They had fun, and she found herself kissing him because she wanted to, and not because she thought she should be doing it to get over Harry. And she found herself leaning on him unexpectedly hard after the shock of Cedric's death. She found that he was more than a cute guy to play around with for fun, as a distraction from her heartache. That summer, she missed him, for real. She thought that meant it was love.

Now, though, she has realized that it didn't. She was never in love with him. She fancied him, for a while. She was flattered by his attention, and she appreciated his kind support, and they had fun together. She loves him, still, as a friend, but that was all they were ever meant to be. (Even if it took a while after the months of fights and jealousy and denial for their prides to let them find their way back to that. But during her sixth year, he was still the one person she could break down with and not feel like she shouldn't be even the slightest. After the war was over, she had a talk with him, and Dean, and apologized for the hurt she'd caused them, however unintentionally. While she and Dean will never be close after all that happened, she and Michael actually are.)

xxx

After it was over with Michael, it was only natural to move on to Dean. He'd been eyeing her all year, and she'd noticed, despite telling Michael that he was a possessive prat for suggesting it. She'd noticed, and she'd realized that he was a really funny guy as they'd hung out more and more. At first, he was. He was passionate kisses and the flirty banter she and Michael had lost along the way.

Then they lost it too, over Harry. It was always over Harry. The irony is that if it hadn't been for Hermione constantly dropping hints about how Harry seemed to be finally looking at her, she never would have stayed with Dean as long as she did. Because even if she always laughed, telling Hermione she was losing her marbles, and that hell would freeze over before Harry Potter noticed she was a girl, she couldn't help glancing at him every now and then, wondering if he hadn't just been eyeing her in a very similar way to Dean the previous year… But she hurriedly convinced herself that she shouldn't be thinking like that. She had moved on. She was with Dean. And, plus, it was probably just her imagination. It had to be. Just because Hermione was saying it, she thought she started seeing it. It was silly. And she had stopped being a pining, silly girl years ago. So she stayed with Dean, convincing herself that she couldn't break up with him for a boy who probably had never even thought of her as anything but a little sister.

This is why she and Dean can never be friends again. She hurt him, even worse than she hurt Michael, by hanging on too long and making him fight when the battle was long ago lost. By finally dumping him when Harry's looks were starting to get so obvious that even she couldn't deny them, and then getting together with him so soon afterwards. (While that kiss for a long time would be the happiest moment of her life, she'd never be able to forget the image of pure pain in Dean's expression when she first came up for air and met his eyes over Harry's shoulder.)

xxx

When she told Harry that she was a virgin, he was surprised, spluttering something about Michael and Dean. She couldn't be offended, really. She knew that most of the school had assumed she'd lost her virginity already in her fourth year, with Michael, and possibly even before that. She knew that _everyone_ had been sure she was doing it with Dean. She never had, though, despite her two almost year-long relationships. She's not entirely sure why, but she has a suspicion it had something to do with Harry. It always had, no matter how much she tried to deny it at the time.

At the time, she thought she was too young with Michael, and told herself that she'd wait until they'd been together a bit longer. But when they had, they were already falling apart, and she was starting to get frustrated with how imperfect he was, and she definitely wouldn't have done it then. Even if she wanted a distraction from Harry, and from the looks Dean was giving her, she wouldn't do _that_ for such a reason.

With Dean, it was closer. They had fun, and he was really charming in the beginning. They were near enough, a couple of times. But she always stopped him, telling herself she was just waiting for the right moment. Before that had arrived, he was starting to annoy her out of her skin with both giving Michael a run for his money in the jealousy field, _and_ being overprotective in a way that made her feel like he didn't respect her (Michael always had had a way with succeeding to not make her feel that way, despite being a very protective guy, and she would always wonder how he had managed that.)

As it turns out, she wasn't as much waiting for the right moment as she was waiting for the right guy. If Harry had wanted to do it the first week they were together, that would have been fine by her. If Ron hadn't interrupted them in her room on his birthday, when they were broken up and the right moment was ludicrously far away, she wouldn't have cared. Even if she now is glad that he did interrupt them, so that she could have her perfect moment, with her perfect guy, during a Hogsmeade weekend of her last year at Hogwarts. (Well, as perfect as it could be with two people who had no idea what they were doing, really…)

xxx

When she got together with Harry, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it. She knew that it couldn't last, that he'd have to go off to save the world and be a bloody hero. Like he always was. She'd known, but she'd hoped it'd be a bit longer before it happened. He wasn't even 17, and yet, he was dumping her, shouldering the fate of the whole wizarding world. It wasn't fair. Neither to him, nor to her. She wanted to beg, to plead with him not to do it. But she couldn't.

She spent the next year hating herself for that, because she had seen it in his eyes – if she had tried to stop him, he wouldn't have been able to go. That was why she hadn't been able to say it. She also spent the next year trying to make herself hate him, for having to be the hero, for not screwing it all and choosing to be with her instead, without being asked (she shouldn't have to ask, really, should she?). She never succeeded. This was frustrating, because she was supposed to be the kind of girl who couldn't bear overprotection (case in point; Dean Thomas!). Yet, when it was Harry who was treating her like a helpless little girl – well, he was _still_ Harry.

After the battle, he explained everything he hadn't told her before. She wanted to hate him again for never telling her anything and for being prepared to go and kill himself and leave her all alone without even saying goodbye, but instead she found herself weeping into his chest. Because her brother was dead. And he was there and Godric, she had missed him.

The days went by, and she was in a daze of grief and lack of sleep. She didn't touch him at her brother's funeral, even if she probably should have, both for his sake and her own. But she didn't. Afterwards, though, he found her throwing up behind a bush. He held her hair, even if she could feel his hands shaking. After this, she slowly began letting him in again. Let him hold her hand as they walked back to the reception. Let him hold her as she fell asleep in his arms that night. It was a few weeks later when she took the initiative to kiss him again, but it felt right. Even if they had both changed, and were still impossibly broken, she knew then that they'd somehow find their way back to each other.

xxx

The summer that followed was difficult. There was so much to do, with rounding up the Death Eaters, witnessing at their trials and re-building the school. Harry, obviously, was involved in most of it. Most days (that is, those when she wasn't bitter at everything about the world without her brother), she didn't mind much. He was there when she needed him. Whenever she asked him, or he just saw it in her eyes, he took the day off. He was there for her whole family, and the rest of the world. But when the decision about the fall was nearing, her heart broke a little when he told her he'd been offered a place in the Auror office. She would be going back to school, and she had assumed (or hoped) that he would be too, since at least Hermione was.

So when Harry hesitantly asked her if she thought that maybe he shouldn't be an Auror, she was again really tempted to stop him, to say that it wasn't fair to put her and everyone else who loved him through more worrying about him. That she needed him, alive, with her. But she looked into his eyes and saw guilt. And she knew that this was something he wanted, and that he was just trying to make sure it wouldn't hurt her. As always, he was thinking of anyone but himself. So she let him make the decision, knowing fully well what that would mean. When he told her, she just kissed him good luck and hugged him a bit extra tightly. She didn't stop him, even though her heart was crying out for her to do just that. Because she knows how much he has done for everyone but himself. If this was something he needed to do, _wanted_ to do, she would not be the one to stop him. If she had, she wouldn't have loved him. But she fell in love with Harry Potter, and all that comes with that package.

xxx

If Fred hadn't died, she doesn't think she would have ever forgiven Percy. She still hates what he did. She hates that he broke her family apart during a time when that was all they worried about – the difference was, he did it by choice.

The night her dad was attacked and Percy still didn't show up, she swore to herself that she'd never talk to him again and that he simply wasn't her brother anymore. But he came back. And when all the others welcomed him like the family member he was, she didn't have much of a choice. When she lost Fred, she lost all energy to fight. So she finally forgave him, after eight days of trying to pretend he didn't exist and that she didn't notice nor care that his voice shook more often than it didn't and how much pain was shining in his eyes when he they were fixed on her.

She's still not sure whether he deserved it. But he's her brother. It never was a choice.

xxx

The first years of his life, she spent a lot of time with Teddy Lupin, desperately seeking every opportunity to baby-sit. It was the only way she felt she was _doing _something, something good and useful. He was the only person she knew how to help, because even though she would never stop trying, she knew her family would never be completely whole again. It was easier to sometimes take a break and instead fight so that this little boy would never have to feel alone. But in the beginning, she didn't think she actually cared about him. He was just a kid she needed to help to distract herself from her losses. Slowly, of course, her affections for him grew, but not until he was eleven and he was leaving for Hogwarts did she realize that she had actually come to consider him, not _almost_ as her own son, but as good as.

When the time then came for the first of her own children to attend, she actually considered home schooling just so she wouldn't have to lose them. If Harry hadn't convinced her that they really weren't good enough teachers, she wouldn't have caved. Instead she just wept in his arms all night, while he tried to assure her that James wouldn't be gone forever. She still knew that it'd never be the same. That he'd come back every summer changed and more grown up and that by the time he graduated, he wouldn't need them anymore. That hurt worse than anything else.

When Harry finally broke after Lily left, he was way too upset for her to say "I told you so". She considered it for a moment though– before she made out the wetness in his eyes.

xxx

She's always been afraid of favouring one child over another. Albus would have been easily overlooked, since he's the middle child. He doesn't lack the ability to breathe without forming words, as James does. He's not the only girl, like Lily, who gets attention by that fact. Not that she needs it – at school she's been getting into even more trouble than James.

Albus is the quiet one; the one who thinks carefully before he speaks. The one who always questions his own ability. The one who is very much bothered by the fact that his parents are so well-remembered by his teachers, because he doesn't think he'll be enough to live up to all of their brilliance. The one with an almost constant wrinkle on his forehead, mirroring his young father's. She always was very good at making _him_ feel better, but even if she's tried hard with Al, Harry always seems to know him a bit better than she does. So she tries even harder. Sometimes she's worried that she overlooks her other children in this frantic need to reach him. Harry always tells her she's the best mother there ever was. Sometimes she's not so sure about that. Especially not that time when Lily refused to tell her what was wrong and she had to find out from _Ron_ of all people that she and Hugo had fallen out, _and_ he was the one who fixed it.


End file.
